Beware: geekery within

Clickable Buttons for Night Owls!

This is the part that’s going to be the hardest for me in my writerly hat, and it’s one you’d think would be super easy, what with my other choice of career.

I’ve spent the last 20-ish years selling books to people. First to customers in the bookstore, and for the last eleven years, to buyers at those bookstores. I can talk up and recommend other peoples’ books like nobody’s business.

Now, though, I get to talk about my own upcoming book, and saying “Hey, this is here for you to buy if you want!” butts heads with my upbringing, which says “Don’t talk about yourself too much, it’s rude.” That plus my shyness equals eep.

However.

This is my business, now, too. This is also my career.

And that means I ought to tell you where you can go to get Night Owls, if you’re so inclined. It’s up for preorder!

It’s got monster-hunting women kicking ass and taking names — one who enjoys offing the werewolf-like monsters called the Creeps, the other who just wants to sell some books and forget about the Creeps, damn it. It’s got a smartass bookseller who’s a loyal minion to his vampire boss. It’s got dysfunctional relationships and functional ones. It’s got succubi and sarcasm.